The Thing About Sisters
by Camaro-Enthusiast
Summary: Pam Brown: "Sisters never quite forgive one another for what happened when they were five." Myka never wanted to talk about Tracy, or worse, TO Tracy. But, Pete convinced her to, not once, but twice. Read inside for longer summary.Read and Review.Oneshot.


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Are you all excited for the special Christmas episode tonight on SyFy? I know I am!

Anyways, after thinking and watching "Age Before Beauty" on Hulu, I realized something. Pete must know about Tracy because she definitely was not mentioned before Pete said her name in 'Age Before Beauty.'

Curiosity led me to write this.

(Set during Age Before Beauty)

* * *

Myka was studying herself in the mirror. She felt like a fraud, a fake. The person in the mirror was not her. The person in the mirror was some fractured reflection of her. The slinky purple dress was alluring, but to her, it felt like a snakeskin, smooth in all the wrong ways. It was so soft, it chafed.

There was no logic to her thoughts right now. She couldn't do this…

"Can I come in? Are you decent?" Pete calls to her.

Pete. Her partner always had a habit of showing up when she least wanted him, like when she went back to Colorado last year.

"Know what? Screw it. I'm coming in," he announces.

_He is such a boy_, Myka thinks to herself. She turns to him slowly, and he just stares at her.

She feels self-conscious. She wants to go and cry. She really couldn't take that sarcastic banter they enjoyed right now.

"Whoa," he breathes.

_This is not better,_ Myka seethes inwardly. "Don't you dare laugh." She pretends she didn't hear her voice waver, and, luckily, so does he.

"No, I'm so not laughing." There was something in Pete's voice that hinted of something more between them, but she wasn't going to acknowledge it. Not now, not ever.

"I am not doing this," she decides.

Somehow, in their conversation, he goes from agreeing with her to urging her to take part.

"Why aren't you?" he asks.

"Okay," she crosses her arms. "Some girls took fencing lessons, right? And…and read books and studied and became Secret Service Agents…" So, it is obvious she's talking about herself, but with Pete, one can never know. "And," she pauses, a habit getting more noticeable by the second, "…and that….that out there; that is—" The hoarse laugh that rips from her throat surprises even Myka "—that is not me."

He tilts his head, reminding her of the ferret in its cage back at the B&B. "Why not?"

"Um…" _So, I wasn't expecting that,_ Myka thinks. She turns to the mirror. "'Cause, you know… I'm not the pretty one."

"Who's the pretty one?" His voice sounds disappointed in her. _Why is that?_ She thinks petulantly.

"My sister."

"Ah, Tracy."

"Yeah." Her name pretty much sums it up. "She's the cheerleader, homecoming queen… She was the one," Myka was sure the resentment in her voice was heard because she could see it on her face. She turns back to Pete. "She was the ones the boys were crazy about. She could do this."

She expected something deep, meaningful. Instead, Pete rolls his eyes. "Alright, turn around."

"Why?"

"Because if I'm going to say this to you, I can't say it with you looking at me, so just turn around!"

Any other time, she would have corrected the grammar in that sentence but there was something in the way he said it that made her believe him.

"I'll turn around."

Pete stares at her back for a second. "I can't say it to the back of your head either!"

He turns around, and Myka masks a smile.

"So, um…" he pauses, as if embarrassed, "Myka, you are a stunningly beautiful woman. The day I met you, I said I'm not going to be able to work with her."

_This is not making me feel any better,_ Myka reflects to herself.

"I won't be able to stop staring at her… But then I got to know you… and I realized that you're more beautiful than I can see."

She bites her lip, flattered and feeling like she may cry.

"And, if that little teen fencer could see what a beautiful woman that she would become she would know that it's her sister who should be jealous."

Myka couldn't help it. Her eyes were wet. She quietly sucks in a breath of air, and waits.

Pete exhales and turns back to face her. "Good to go?"

Myka collects herself and turns to her partner. "Oh, I am good to go!"

They didn't talk about it later. She wanted to, he didn't. It was over and done… that was what she tells herself later.

* * *

_Flashback (right after the end of Season 1, Episode "Nevermore")_

* * *

"Hello?" the cheery voice rings through the bookstore.

Myka groans.

Pete stares at her. "What?"

"Mom? Daddy?" the woman comes up the stairs. Her hair was straight, and unlike Myka's was closer to Jean's blonde than Warren's former chestnut-colored hair. "Oh, Myka. Hi."

"Hi, Tracy."

"Who's this?" Tracy asks, her eyes glued to Pete.

Myka grits her teeth. "Tracy, this is my partner, Pete. Pete, meet my sister."

He puts on that smile, and Myka wants to kill him. It's the smile he uses on the poor unsuspecting girls right before he questions them for information. It's the smile he uses on the women he liked. It's the smile that she's learned to fear—it means he's up to something.

"Nice to meet you," Pete grins. He turns to Myka, and can practically feel the anger radiating from her. "So, who's older?"

"That'd be Myka. I'm a year and a half younger. I'm Dad's favorite," Tracy puts on a smile, and Myka notices that it hasn't changed. Her sister still had the conniving smile that let her get away with anything.

"Funny. Cuz I got here first."

"Myka, I was in California," Tracy laughs.

"I was in Berlin!" Myka snaps at her younger sister.

Pete steps between them. "Alright. I know tensions are high, with everything that's happened. Uh, your dad's upstairs. He's okay," Pete assures Tracy. "Myka, we have…a call to make."

It was a lie, but Myka was okay with it. It got her away from her 'precious' baby sister.

Pete follows her to her childhood bedroom. "Cozy," he mutters, flopping onto her bed.

Myka says nothing. She felt…like a child. She hated feeling like a child. She was the older one, and she knew better. That's what her father used to say.

The way Warren treated his children—tough—one might think the sisters would have bonded. Instead, Tracy's kissing up led Myka to despise the younger Bering daughter.

"So, what was that about?" Pete asks, his fingers lazily tracing the squares on the quilt he laid on.

Myka laughs. "I suppose you would want an explanation."

"An explanation would be nice…especially when my partner just tried to murder one of her own family members," Pete says. His voice stayed the same, bored and quiet, yet demanding answers.

Myka sits next to him. "Tracy was born when I was still really little. I barely remember a time before Tracy. All I remember is that Dad always liked her better. I was supposed to be the smart one, the one who loved books. It was all forced on me, just because I was the oldest. I was reading children's books by the time I was four. When Tracy turned four, she got Barbie's for her birthday. I got books. Don't get me wrong, I loved reading…but it was never enough."

"How?" Pete asks.

"I read C.S. Lewis by myself for the first time in fourth grade. I won the science fair in third grade with a functioning model of the solar system that rotated by itself. I was on the honor roll since we actually got letter grades. But, Dad insisted I could do better. An A- was horrible, and a B was unheard of."

Myka turns to her partner. "He got so mad. It scared me. I spent nights in bed, clutching a favorite book, afraid that he would… I dunno. That he would get so mad, he'd do something. It just scared me. It made me give my best, and never stop until I had—or until I died trying."

"That's…" Pete takes his time, picking a word that wouldn't offend, "a hard way to grow up."

"Yeah," Myka laughs sarcastically. "What was worse was that he was never like that with Tracy. With Tracy he was gentle, he was nice… It wasn't fair!" Myka bursts out.

Pete says nothing, just stands and closes the door. He turns back to his partner, nodding to let her know to go on.

"Tracy could play with dolls, and go out with boys, and join the cheerleading squad, and have friends! Tracy was the pretty one; Tracy was the baby—always. Tracy got what she wanted, always!" Myka knew her voice was whiny, but she couldn't help it.

Pete opens his arms, not a word coming from his mouth.

Myka lets out a choked cry, and vaults into his arms.

Her curls tickle his nose… that was the first thing Pete notices. And, she smelled like vanilla. Not perfume, just her hair.

Pete places a hand on her shoulder, and the other on her back.

She was sobbing, but there was no noise. _That's so…like her_, Pete thinks to himself. _Quiet, without letting anyone know her feelings._

"Myka," he whispers. "Maybe you should talk about this. I mean, what if it's not the way it seems?"

"You don't know anything about it," Myka tells him.

"Then talk to someone who does. Go talk to Tracy. After everything that's happened tonight, I don't think this will be the worst."

He will never ask if she does. He knows that she won't want to. He'll never know that she actually did…

* * *

"Tracy?" Myka knocks on the door across the hall softly. "Can I come in?"

"Sure…"

They got to talking. Just, about everyday life. But it was a start. Thanks to Pete.

* * *

_fin_


End file.
